She pays the bills and handles the money.
She makes jelly sandwitches topped with honey.
She spanks the children gently when they are wrong,
and at birthday parties leads them in song.
She cleans the house with all the dirty dishes,
and listens to the children's problems and wishes.
She's father, mother, and playmate all in one,
yet in all the confusion, she gets her work done.
She keeps the car greased to go here and there,
and if a tire goes, she puts on the spare.
She buys the food and all the clothes,
and takes care of kids with thier runny nose.
She washes the children and puts them to bed,
and sees to it that their prayers are all said.
She tucks them under for the rest of the night,
and reads them a story, then turns out the light.
At last she sits down to rest for a while,
and looks at a magazine for a new hair style.
The house is all quiet with no one around,
the noise of the TV is the only sound.
She's alone and tired, her energy spent.
Just knowing she is loved is her content.
She waits and counts the days until your return,
so she can show you what the children have learned.
She has a burden, as we all know,
and at times it starts to show.
All this is forgotten and is part of the past,
when her sailor comes off patrol at last.
Author unknown